


Cracks on the Surface

by FScottFitzgayerald



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Alcoholic John Lennon, Fluff and Angst, M/M, McLennon, There's kind of a happy ending to this??, angst-ish, but anyway, god it's so late and literally no one asked for this but here u go, the context makes like no sense but go w/it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 18:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FScottFitzgayerald/pseuds/FScottFitzgayerald
Summary: Paul confronts a drunk John on his somewhat concerning drinking habits.





	Cracks on the Surface

**Author's Note:**

> It was pretty late when I wrote this, so please excuse any typos!

“I’ve had enough of it, John!” Paul snapped as he pushed the older man away, the latter’s breath heavy with the scent of booze. “The second I walk in the door you’re on top of me. No more of this.”

John cocked his head to the side before staring back at Paul blankly. “What’d you mean? Paulie I was just tryina’ kiss yo-“

Paul sighed. “I can’t be with you when you’re like this. Shitfaced ‘n all.”

“Honestly love, it was just a quick sip. S’all.” John replied as he began to swirl around whatever was left in the bottle before pressing its mouth to his own.

“Really?” retorted the smaller man, before swiftly grabbing the bottle. “This is probably your sixth tonight. Maybe your 30th this week. It’s becoming a problem, John.”

John stepped back. “Macca there’s no pro-“ he began, before tripping on his left leg and falling into a fit of laughter. “Havin’ a bit of fun,” he continued in between chuckles, “ain’t a problem at all.”

“No, it isn’t, but lying to me about it is.”

John let out an over-expressive gasp. “Never lied to you, Paulie. Never!”

Paul pressed his hands to his temples and sat down on the couch. “You did. You said you wouldn’t do this.” Paul motioned towards the mess that was his boyfriend sprawled out on the floor. “You told me you were gonna write a song or two while I was out— ‘Oh Macca I’ll be fine, I won’t lay a finger on a drink, I swear to it.’ And I-I come home to this!”

“I needed a boost. Really, you shouldn’t be worr- “

Paul began to raise his voice. “You broke a promise, John. A promise to me, one I specifically asked you to make, and one you agreed to stay true to! And look at you! A fuckin’ mess, you are!” Paul put his head in his hands as a piercing silence began to fill the air between them. John sat up. 

“I love you, y’know.” 

Paul looked up. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well I—“ The drunk man paused and stood up briefly before falling back down. “I don’t want you to forget it.”

“It’s not about love, John. You fucking lied to me.” 

“But it wasn’t intentional.” John began to crawl backwards onto the couch.

“So?” 

“Oh—I didn’t mean to hurt you.” John plopped himself down next to Paul and attempted to wrap his arm around the other man. Paul pushed him away. 

“But you still did.”

“But I’m bein’ honest here, look, maybe I do have a problem. But I—I’m not lyin’ to you. I’m not tryin’ to hide it, and besides, I’m not _really_ hurting anyone, am I love?” John leaned in for a kiss, catching Paul off-guard. The older man gently eased forward, only to have the younger quickly snap back to reality and pull away. John stared back at him. “Pass me my drink, would you?” 

“You’re unbelievable.”

“A man has his wants.” 

“A man has his promises.” John retreated to the other side of the couch and lowered his eyes. 

“Maybe I do I owe you a bit more than what I’ve been givin’ you.”

“What happened to you, Lennon? You’d be fine sharing a pint with Ritchie ‘n George and all of us. What’s started all this, this drinking yourself to death? Hell, you’ve even started buying double your usual amount of ciggi—“ 

“You.” Paul turned to his lover in utter disbelief. 

“What?”

"Stress. The band. Our rela—“ John slurred.

“Me?” John nodded slowly. “How could I possibly be a burden onto you, John Lennon, the man who has absolutely everything?” 

“Because you are, Macca. You’re just – just never present. It’s like you’re living on another planet half the time. Always in the studio, forever consumed by your, how should I say it,” John raised his arm as if he was gently stroking the stars. “Your higher pursuits.” 

“I don’t read you.” John lowered his arm.

“You put the band before us, goddammit!” he shouted, raising his much voice louder than intended. Paul’s face grew pale.

“I—“

“Fuck, I-I didn’t mean to yell at you there, honestly I’m not cross, really. It’s just I haven’t been seeing much of you lately and it’s er, takin’ its toll.” John gently placed an arm on the other man’s shoulder, caressing him as lightly as possible. Paul flinched and quickly pulled away. “Oh god,” John whispered softly into his own palms. “I’d never hurt you Paul, I’m not like that.” John rested his head in his hands and felt his eyes begin to burn hot with tears. “God, I’m sorry.” He croaked. 

John’s sobs were soon interrupted by Paul’s soft voice. “S’all right, Lennon.” He confided, taking his lover’s hands. “We’ll be all right. I’ll spend a less time locked up in the studio and out with you, yeah?”

John looked up into the other Beatle’s eyes. “Y-Yeah.” 

Paul leaned forward and placed his hand just on the back of John’s head, gently pulling him in for a clumsy and long overdue kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first (full) Beatles fic I decided to post and it's pretty exciting! If you have any critiques, insights, or anything of the sort feel free to comment below! Thank you for the read.


End file.
